


Don’t Blink

by DareSeries



Series: Don’t You Dare [1]
Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Original Fiction, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22075495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DareSeries/pseuds/DareSeries
Summary: 23-year-old Zara solves mysteries near her hometown of Osbourne.
Relationships: Friendships - Relationship, Romance - Relationship
Series: Don’t You Dare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589029





	Don’t Blink

Why do bad things happen to mediocre people?

Now, I'm not saying this because I'm 23 years and alone on Saturday night. I'm not saying this because the last time I went to a party was the after-prom that I crashed when I was seventeen and then asked my dad to pick me up that night because everyone was too high for me to understand what they were saying. I'm not saying this because my parents openly refer to me as a disappointment.

I'm saying this because this is the night where Orange was supposed to meet me to find the spirits that the Jablins, the cultish yet charismatic family, are communicating with. 

I'm wearing all black. We confirmed this plans for nights. I'm carrying mace and a pocket knife on me (not a gun because if the police catch us, I don't wanna be mistaken as violent). 

Orange, being black, ESPECIALLY can't be seen carrying a gun on him, knowing how the cops are in this region. Besides, I've seen the ghosts before. Bullets would pass through them easily. 

I'm saying this because, after all our PLANNING, Orange sent me a text:

"Hold up at work. Besides, realllllly don't wanna die tonight, haven't said goodbye yet to my folks :(. Or ever."

Right before I was about to send him a text calling him a coward, I got another notification.

"I know ur not gonna listen, but DON’T GO. I'm not saying this cuz I'm a pussy, I'm serious. Dead ass. You can go around to the same graveyard with your 'research', but DON’T GO to their backyard."

Let's backtrack. My close friend group, due to my situation in life, includes Sylvia and Orange. We're all in our 20s and work at the local Starbucks. We are, according to society's standards and our own, losers. 

Of course, we all have ways of making money on the side. Orange, being the Starving Artist ™, sells paintings on the side to the local community center and online. I write poems for local poetry magazines occasionally, with a relatively low commission and absolutely no fame because who the hell reads poetry magazines? Sylvia sells pot. Classy, I know, but Sylvia had always had a troubled family life: her twin sister, Survia, was always was in and out of institutions. 

It was a warm September when Orange, Sylvia, and I were walking back from work. I went out to my way to deliberately crunch every leaf to annoy my friends, but they weren't listening.

"You know, my dream was always to move out to L.A or New York City or something. I never thought I'd be living in this same old fucking boring-ass town where nothing ever happens," said Orange, as he kicked sticks on the ground.

"I mean, we are a small town. In all the books and TV shows, we have some dark secrets or something."

I didn't add, which my friends already knew, that I should be one to know. I spent twenty-three years of my whole life consuming various forms of media and doing absolutely nothing else, all the while reassuring myself that "I need to view good content to create good content." Well, in reality, I was spending days upon days in my pajamas watching every single Netflix show in bed, which is why my parents eventually kicked me out, and now I'm living in a shed 'studio' with Orange. But that's a story for a different day.

"You know," said Sylvia, suddenly looking up from her phone. "Zara might actually be right."

I was taken aback. This was not a sentence she said very often.


End file.
